


I Have What You Need

by The_Busy_Beee



Series: Travis' Angels [3]
Category: DOUBLE DECKER! ダグ&キリル | Double Decker! Doug & Kirill (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Biting, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Jealousy, M/M, Needy Kirill, Office Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Busy_Beee/pseuds/The_Busy_Beee
Summary: Travis misses Kirill's mouth and Kirill is very easily convinced.Or:Kirill loves way Doug holds him, but he doesn't seem to understand that Kirill won't break.





	I Have What You Need

**Author's Note:**

> I have more filth for you guys~
> 
> I know I keep saying Val/Der sickfic next, but I've gotten stuck.  
> So I might end up just scrapping it and going a different direction, or maybe just cutting it in half? Either way, I'm having a tough time with it for some reason. >~<
> 
> Here's a continuation of Jealousy Looks Good on You, though!   
> I think this might be the last installment for the series. It's wrapped up with a semi-open ending, so you guys can imagine what happens next for yourselves. ^w^
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy it to the fullest! 💕

Travis has been in a foul mood the past week, now that his stress relief has been unavailable. Of course he hasn't asked Kirill in so many words, but he's not stupid. Finding Doug pinning Kirill to his desk was no accident- it was a sign.

 

The mustachioed man sighs heavily again and leans in the large office chair. He can only admit it to himself freely when he's alone, but he misses Kirill's mouth. He misses the tight, wet heat and how  _ talented _ he is. Women are good, but there's a natural talent that men have. It must be because they also have the same appendage, so naturally they would know how to make it feel good. And god did Kirill make it feel  _ good _ .

 

He misses fisting his hands in those lilac locks and shoving him  _ down _ , and Kirill not putting up a  _ shred _ of resistance. He misses spreading Kirill's legs wide and finding the boy already lubed and  _ wanting _ . He misses Kirill's flexibility and the sounds he makes and the way he would scream under just the right sensations-

 

Most of all, he misses how much Kirill got off on it. 

 

He could fuck his throat until the boy was crying, but you could see the bulge in his jeans standing proudly. Travis could yank his hair, twist his perky little nipples until they were raw, fuck him until he was crying with overstimulation, but Kirill would always enjoy it and beg for more. Travis had never had a  _ woman _ like that.

 

Travis shifts in his chair and hisses softly as he realizes all this daydreaming and reminiscing has him hard against the seam of his pants. He drops his palm down to rub over the bulge, mouth dropping open in a soft sigh, as he flicks his eyes to the wall clock. 

 

He should still have at least 30 minutes before anyone comes back. Plenty of time to get off and wash up afterwards. With that thought in mind, Travis shifts in the chair, hands coming down to fiddle with the belt buckle and fastenings on his pants. Travis hisses again as the spongy tip catches on the elastic of his boxer briefs before releasing the hardened shaft into the slightly chilled air. He knows he won't have long, so he pulls out the little tube of lube still laying in his desk drawer and gives his cock a little drizzle.

 

The cold sensation has him groaning before he drops the bottle back into the drawer and wraps his right hand around himself. Travis takes his time, running teasingly from base to tip and back, teasing the foreskin over the tip and rubbing the wetness further down his shaft. His head falls back with a groan as he picks up the pace, mind helpfully supplying the image of a lithe little minx riding his cock for all its worth. Travis humps his hips into his fist, the lube making filthy noises in his tightened fist, and knows it won't take very long.

 

“Hey Boss? About this file-” 

 

Travis pauses, fist tight around his base, and opens his eyes to find Kirill standing in the doorway, mouth agape and eyes wide. The file he had been holding is now at his feet, and Travis suddenly has an idea. He begins moving his hand again, slowly, eyes never leaving Kirill as he watches the younger man's eyes fall to his slickened cock. Kirill's throat bobs when he swallows, and Travis smile slowly grows. 

 

“Buzz-Cut, my boy,” he drawls, “what can I do for you?” Kirill's eyes dart up, cheeks pink, and he stammers, unable to keep his eyes from dropping back to the weeping erection. 

 

“Y-you seem to be busy so- I'll just- I'll ask Doug-” Kirill begins, ripping his eyes away from the scene in front of him to kneel down and frantically gather up the scattered papers. 

 

“Of course, of course- Doug.” Travis muses, hand still lazily stroking his cock. “I'm sure your boyfriend would be more than glad to help.”

 

“He's- we're not actually…” Kirill is trying so hard not to look in Travis’ direction, and the older man loves it.

 

“Oh? My apologies. I simply thought he had finally seen how badly you wanted him.” Kirill is silent, lower lip trapped between his teeth. “I guess it's just sexual, then? I'd hope he's at least taking care of you.”

 

When Kirill squirms, he knows he's struck a nerve. He picks up the pace of his hand, just enough that the schlick sounds can be heard and he nearly groans when Kirill whimpers softly.

 

“Tell me, Kirill,” Travis says, voice low, “does he take care of you? Does he fuck you like you need him to?” Kirill trembles.

 

“He… Doug is an excellent lover…” 

 

“I'm sure he is.” Travis concedes, “But does he give you everything  _ you _ _need?_ ” Kirill is silent, so Travis takes it as a sign to continue. “Does he know how  _ needy _ you are? How you beg to be pinned down and thoroughly fucked? Does he choke you on his cock, or fuck your tight little hole until you cry? Have you told him what a little slut you are for having your throat fucked? Or how badly you want to be  _ filled? _ ”

 

Kirill is panting now, fists clenching the papers too tightly. They'll have crushed edges now, but Travis couldn't care less. He stops stroking and simply holds the base, presenting it to the younger man.

 

“Kirill.” His voice has gone growly and it makes Kirill shiver. “Look at me.” Travis commands. Kirill's watery blues find Travis’ dark, lust filled eyes and the older man smiles.

 

“Let me give you what you need.”

 

\---

 

“Ah!!  _ God _ , Travis! I can't-!”

 

“You  _ can _ .”

 

Kirill's eyes roll back as his back arches, both cursing and praising Travis’ accuracy. The older man is setting a punishing pace, pelvis slapping against Kirill's plush bottom with every thrust as he pins Kirill's wrists against his lower back with one hand and leaves bruises on his waist with the other. Kirill knows he's being too loud, he can hear his voice echoing, but  _ god _ , he  _ needed _ this.

 

Sex with Doug was amazing, fantastic- something he had only dreamed of. Doug was attentive and passionate, but maybe that was the problem. Doug wasn't exactly soft persay, but he was always careful not to hurt Kirill, pausing and easing off at the slightest discomfort. And that's great! Those are signs of a wonderful lover, and Kirill always comes, but sometimes it's just not… satisfying?

 

Maybe he's the one that's messed up. Maybe those years of quiet, rough and rushed sessions in the academy ruined him, because what  _ really _ gets him off is this; being face down, ass up, and being roughly pounded into. His nipples are red and puffy where they're smooshed against the cold wood of Travis’ desk, his cock is red and weeping, begging to be touched, and his body is being used with no regard to his own pleasure right now. Kirill could come just from this, he knows without a doubt.

 

Kirill purposely clenches around Travis and the older man hisses against his shoulder before biting down. Kirill's head jerks up and he wails, the pain turning into sparks of pleasure that jolt in his lower abdomen.

 

“Slutty little thing.” Travis growls, and Kirill whines again.

 

Yeah, he's definitely gotten a few wires crossed.

 

As he pants against the desk, his eyes slit open and trail to the open doorway. He's shocked to find Doug standing there, face unreadable. Kirill wants to feel guilty, because he told Doug he wouldn't come back to Travis, but the part of his brain that is currently being fucked within an inch of it's life reminds Kirill that he doesn't owe Doug anything. They're not dating; Doug never said anything about exclusivity. And if Doug won't scratch his itch, someone has to. Travis’ cock slams into his prostate once again and Kirill arches on a wail.

 

“ _ Doug!” _

 

Travis stills. 

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

When he flutters open his eyes, Doug is staring wide eyed at the younger man. Travis' lips are no longer on Kirill, nor is his body heat blanketing him, and for a brief moment, Kirill is afraid Travis might really leave him like this! But the moment passes and Travis begins to thrust again, lazily. Kirill bites his bottom lip to stifle a groan as Travis gently brushes back and forth over his abused prostate.

 

The bastard's doing it on purpose, he knows it.

 

“Ah, Doug. Wonderful timing.”

 

_ Is it really _ , Kirill wonders, trying to keep his eyes open to watch Doug's expression. He seems suspicious as he steps closer, and Kirill doesn't blame him. He'd probably be suspicious too if he weren't so keyed up.

 

“Close the door behind you, would you?” Kirill could hit the man, really; having such a casual conversation while his dick is _ in Kirill's ass. _ He must sense that Kirill is getting antsy because he releases the slim wrists in his left hand and instead grabs a fistful of hair just in time to ram himself back inside of Kirill's slick, puffy hole. Kirill nearly screams as his back arches and he fumbles around, trying to get a grip on the desk, but his hands are sweaty, and he can't get much traction. He can faintly hear the sound of a door closing but Travis is too  _ deep- _

 

“Lunch hour will be over soon.” Travis grinds out, hips still thrusting slow and deep, “Everyone will be back soon, but this little _slut_ can't seem to stay quiet. Would you mind keeping his mouth occupied for me?”

 

Kirill's eyes flutter open, the first tears beginning to pour over, and Doug looks conflicted. He looks like he wants to say something, but Kirill can't wait any longer- the idea of having both of them, now, has him writhing. Travis chuckles against the column of his throat, moustache tickling him.

 

“Oh? I don't think Doug understands.” He murmurs, just loud enough that Doug can hear as well. He stills, hips pressed flush against Kirill's and wraps his right around Kirill's neck and uses his index finger and thumb to turn Kirill's face towards Doug. 

 

“Do you want him, Darling? Want him to fuck your throat, use your mouth like a common whore?” Kirill whimpers, mouth falling open as he breathes heavily because  _ yes _ , so much  _ yes- _

 

“Then you have to tell him. Tell him what you  _ need _ .” Travis’ teeth dig into the flesh of his shoulders and Kirill's legs are trembling. If it weren't for the arms around his chest and waist, Kirill is sure he'd fall-

 

“ _ Please- _ ” his voice is wrecked, cracking; he barely recognized himself. “Doug, please-”

 

“Please  _ what?” _ Travis taunts, hips moving in a show grind. Kirill's lashes flutter, but he can still see Doug- watching, waiting. His eyes are dark and Kirill can see the outline of Doug's hard cock through his jeans and he wants- he  _ wants- _

 

“ _ Use me _ .” He whines, hips pressing back against Travis but eyes never leaving Doug. Like a switch has been flipped, Doug is striding across the room to drag Kirill into messy kiss. Travis resumes his thrusting and Kirill is groaning, whimpering,  _ begging _ against Doug's lips.

 

“I've got you.” Doug murmurs against Kirill's spit slick lips before applying pressure to the back of Kirill's head. The younger man doesn't fight and quickly drops his body across the desk, mouth falling open on a groan as the shift in position allows Travis deeper. 

 

Doug wastes no time in getting his cock out and against Kirill's lips and Kirill whimpers. His mouth falls open immediately as he watches Doug through watery lashes. 

 

“ _ Fuck.” _ Doug groans.

 

He doesn't waste time being soft, and  _ this _ is what Kirill had wanted,  _ needed _ . Doug's hands fisted in his hair, his cock down his throat, Doug's filthy words filling his ears- 

 

The combined sensations are Kirill's breaking point and his eyes roll back with a full body sudder as he comes. His mouth falls slack, giving Doug more leeway, and his hole tightens around Travis, causing the older man's pace to stutter to a halt as he comes with a groan.

 

Kirill breathes heavily through his nose as Doug keeps going, drunk on the musky smell and salty taste. Doug won't last much longer, Kirill can tell by the tightening on Doug's abdomen, so he groans around the shaft, the vibrations causing Doug to curse.

 

“Fuck- gonna come, Kirill-” he gravels, and Kirill hollows his cheeks, eyes locked onto Doug's brown eyes. The older man pushes in as deep as possible before spilling down Kirill's throat with a low moan, and Kirill happily swallows it all.

 

\---

 

When Doug pulls away, Travis is already seated back in his desk chair, careful cleaning himself with a package of wet wipes. Kirill doesn't think he can move. He's thoroughly  _ wrecked _ .

 

But he loved  _ every _ minute of it.

 

“I'll be going to the break room now. I'm in need of a fresh cup of coffee.” Travis says as he pushes himself to his feet. He's immaculately put together again and Kirill can't stop the huff of laughter that bubbles past his lips. The man's lips quirk up at the edges as he runs a hand down Kirill's heated flesh. “Make sure your partner gets home safely.”

 

Kirill isn't sure if it's meant for him or Doug, but he's aware of the implications. When the door closes behind the older man, Kirill pushes himself onto wobbly legs and finds Doug watching him from the small couch. Kirill cleans himself up carefully before pulling his clothes back on and wobbling his way over to gingerly sit beside Doug with a sheepish smile.

 

His hair is still a wreck, his body aches in the best of ways, and he knows his cheeks must still be flushed, but he feels confident. Doug hadn't left the room while he cleaned up, even though he easily could have. He waited for Kirill. Kirill's smile is soft when he looks up at Doug.

 

“I guess we should probably talk about this?”


End file.
